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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097958">Gingerbread &amp; Highlighters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness'>ABrighterDarkness</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Avengers Merchandise, Awkward Flirting, Captain America Steve Rogers, Coffee, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Meet-Cute, Modern Bucky Barnes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:02:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,859</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28097958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABrighterDarkness/pseuds/ABrighterDarkness</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He stole another glance at the big guy at the back table and tilted his head consideringly.  The guy looked like he was attempting to glare his notebook into submission.  Too bad studying never seemed to work that way.  Big Guy seemed to realize that at the same time because he huffed and shoved his hand irritably through his hair again--somehow managing to avoid dislodging the marker tucked behind his ear--and dropping his pen on top of the notebook to rub at his eyes.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>186</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Star Spangled Secret Santa 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Gingerbread &amp; Highlighters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFicAddict7/gifts">FanFicAddict7</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The big guy was back.  </p>
<p>Not that it was particularly unexpected. The Grind had its set of regulars that stopped in almost, if not every day.  Several of them, Bucky included, had “their” spots, the tables or specific chairs that they gravitated to without fail.  High school and college students with books and computers scattered in front of them.  Business folks that brought their work to chip away at somewhere other than the office. Even a handful of seniors that had decided to skip the local diners and have their morning coffees at an actual shop.  Lots of people were ‘back’ on a daily basis, regardless of the reasons.  </p>
<p>But that wasn’t the point.  The point was that <em> the big guy was back. </em></p>
<p>Big Guy -- Bucky didn’t know the guy’s actual name but the moniker fit.  He guessed that the guy had to have at least a few inches in height on Bucky and at least double Bucky’s size in shoulder width.   </p>
<p>Big. Guy. </p>
<p>And gorgeous, not to mention.  As if Bucky could forget that particular tidbit.  Becca had found great joy in teasing him on the daily about his newest infatuation.  Of course she had caught onto his wandering stare far, far too quickly to let Bucky off so easy.  That wasn’t how siblings worked, and they both knew it.  That didn’t make Bucky like the particularly knowing way that Becca smirked.  Unsettling.  That was the word.  That smirk unsettled him because it was something <em> other </em> than his crush-from-a-distance that seemed to cause it and he didn’t. know. what. </p>
<p>Again, that wasn’t the point.  The point was the Big Guy. </p>
<p>Actually, maybe Becca’s knowing smirk was the point as much as Bucky’s fascination was.  Fascination; he was going to stick with that.  Better than the words Becca used to describe it.  <em> Creepy </em>, she said. Since when was casual people-watching creepy?</p>
<p>
  <em> When it goes from casual people-watching to staring at one single person for hours on end, Bucky. </em>
</p>
<p>Okay, maybe she had a point.  </p>
<p>Sometimes though, Bucky noticed that the man seemed to forget how big he was when he was distracted.  Looking down in confusion when he didn’t scoot his chair quite far enough from under the table before he tried to stand.  Bumping into chairs and tables when he attempted to navigate through the shop. It was an odd detail to pick up on, but an interesting one.</p>
<p>Bucky resolutely did not acknowledge that he was only confirming Becca’s point.  </p>
<p>Anyway. </p>
<p>Big Guy had claimed the small table in the far back corner, like he had done almost every day, without fail, for the last month.  Most of the other regulars avoided that table considering that it was the furthest from any of the power outlets that the little hole-in-the-wall coffee shop had to offer.  Big Guy didn’t seem to be bothered by the lack of electrical connections though, seeing that he arrived early enough in the day to lay claim on the same spot without sparing a glance at the dozen others.  </p>
<p>Books were scattered across the surface of the table in front of him; some were closed with open ones stacked on top, while others lay open without the extra elevation. He had a few open on the seat of the otherwise empty chairs, pulled close on either side of him, one book in each.  There was a laptop peeking out of the corner of the light, powder-purple backpack that was on the floor by his feet, tucked under the table.  </p>
<p>The bright purple color of the bag stood out to Bucky.  For some reason it didn’t quite fit the image that the rest of the man’s appearance presented:  Jeans that were probably meant to be loose fitting but failed miserably.  A soft-looking but otherwise simple slate gray sweater with the collar of a white t-shirt peeking out from underneath, neither of which did a damn thing to hide the man’s obvious build.  Sturdy brown boots, laced tightly that matched well with the well-loved leather jacket draped over the back of the guy’s chair.  Nothing about the man’s appearance lined up with the purple backpack in any way that made sense. </p>
<p>Maybe the bag was a gift? </p>
<p>Bucky didn’t know why he was so hung up on it.  What did it matter what the guy’s backpack looked like?  Bucky had a collection of official Avengers merchandise backpacks at his apartment that he rotated through every so often.  In fact, the Black Widow bag was propped on the chair beside him.  Who was Bucky to judge another guy’s <em> backpack? </em></p>
<p>Either way, the laptop seemed to permanently live inside that strange, unmatching bag.  Bucky hadn’t seen it out even once so far.  Which, he supposed, stood as the reason why Big Guy didn’t mind sitting so far away from the outlets.  He seemed partial to the thick, well-used spiral bound notebook and plain, retractable ballpoint pens.  </p>
<p>Blue ink, if Bucky’s view was anywhere near correct.  Plain, dark blue ink. Again, not like the soft coloring of the bag at all.  Maybe the bag didn’t really matter, but Bucky still couldn’t quite get past the oddness of it.</p>
<p>And highlighters.  </p>
<p>So many highlighters.  </p>
<p>Bucky hadn’t even known there were highlighters in that many different colors.  But this guy sure came prepared with a veritable rainbow of them.  And they were <em> everywhere. </em> On the scarce empty spaces on the table not covered by books, some in the binding of the books’ open pages.  Bucky counted four peeking out of the man’s various pockets.  One was even tucked behind the guy’s ear, and Bucky suspected that he had long since forgotten about that one.  Bucky imagined that any minute now, he would be treated to the guy scrambling to find his lost marker.</p>
<p>Not that Bucky could judge.  He had done the same thing more times than he could count.  Looking for his phone while he was talking on it.  Losing his sunglasses when they were on his face. Yeah, Bucky had no room to judge but it was still funny when someone else got to experience it.</p>
<p>Big Guy looked stressed though, and with the chaos going on at that table, Bucky couldn’t blame him.  Blonde hair was standing in all different directions from hands running through, probably in frustration--it hadn’t been when he had arrived, over two hours ago, Bucky recalled.  He wore it in a precisely neat side part.  Odd choice, maybe, but it somehow suited him.</p>
<p>Bucky winced and darted a glance to the unfinished work on his own laptop which glared accusingly at him--plugged in with the shop’s nearby outlet utilized to full capacity.  <em> Bucky </em> had also been there for over two hours and gotten embarrassingly little accomplished.  But he had over a week until the deadline, and people-watching had always been a guilty pleasure.  Possibly heavier on the <em> pleasure </em> and lighter on the <em> guilty </em> when he managed to be there at the same times as the Big Guy.  Which, luckily, had managed to be <em> most </em> days.  Bucky supposed there was a reason he knew that the Big Guy had sat in the exact same spot every day for the last month.  So had Bucky.</p>
<p>He stole another glance at the big guy at the back table and tilted his head consideringly.  The guy looked like he was attempting to glare his notebook into submission.  Too bad studying never seemed to work that way.  Big Guy seemed to realize that at the same time because he huffed and shoved his hand irritably through his hair again--somehow managing to avoid dislodging the marker tucked behind his ear--and dropping his pen on top of the notebook to rub at his eyes.</p>
<p>That settled it.  </p>
<p>Bucky locked his computer, more out of habit than actual necessity, and pushed out of his chair.   Stuffing his hands into his pockets, he stepped up behind the pair of women that were at the counter ordering their coffees. Very detailed, delicious-sounding coffees, actually.  Bucky made a mental note to try those particular combinations at some point in the very near future. </p>
<p>The women shuffled off to the side to await their orders, talking quietly between themselves, and Bucky stepped forward to take their place.  He idly scanned the large blackboard menu even though he already knew what he was getting.  It was still fun to see the new things that fluctuated through the menu depending on the time of year.  The winter specials had always and would always be Bucky’s favorite, though.  He would have them all year around if he could manage it.  Regardless, he saved the other seasons for trying new things.  Winter was the tried and true favorites.</p>
<p>“Hey, Becks,” he grinned.</p>
<p>His sister shot him a glare that held the level of annoyance that Bucky was absolutely certain only sisters were capable of expressing. “Bucks. What’re you getting?  Or do I even need to ask?”</p>
<p>“It’s <em> December, </em> Becca!” Bucky gasped in mock-indignation.</p>
<p>“For fifteen days now,” Becca retorted sarcastically.</p>
<p>“Which <em> means…? </em>” Bucky grinned.</p>
<p>“The biggest gingerbread we’ve got, yes, I know,” she rolled her eyes but smirked and quickly poked his order into the screen in front of her. “What else? Please tell me you’re actually going to eat?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Mom,” he teased. “Actually, double the order for the drink and... two off of the loaf.”</p>
<p>Becca paused and stared at him for a second, and then her smirk reappeared. “Finally going to talk to the poor guy instead of being a creep?”</p>
<p>“People-watching is not creepy, Becca,” Bucky protested.</p>
<p>She hummed in obvious disagreement but held her hand out expectantly for payment.  Bucky dug the money from his wallet and passed it over.  When she handed him his receipt, knowing well enough by now that any change went into the jar on the counter, she offered a small smile. </p>
<p>“Bucky, seriously though? Either talk to the guy or don’t,” she said firmly. “But this staring-from-across-the-room thing is kinda weird, even for you.”</p>
<p>Bucky bit back a wince and shrugged. “Kind of the point of getting two drinks, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>“Well, we are talking about you,” Becca mused. “For all I know, you mean to keep all of it to yourself.”</p>
<p>She wasn’t wrong.  Bucky loved his coffee.  And it was the December specials.  “No,” he disagreed though. “Not this time.”</p>
<p>“Good,” she smirked.  And of course, it was that damn <em> knowing </em> smirk again. “Now go.  Stop holding up my line.”</p>
<p>Bucky carefully balanced the two large paper cups--with lids, thankfully--with the parchment paper wrapped treats stacked on top of the respective cup.  Nerves started to claw at his mind as he approached the overflowing table and the over-stressed occupant.  He shoved the feeling aside.  He was just being nice.  Friendly, even.  The guy looked like he could use a pick-me-up and Bucky was offering it.  If the guy turned it down, well, more for Bucky.</p>
<p>Nevermind that Bucky really hoped that wouldn’t be the case.</p>
<p>“Uh, hey,” Bucky greeted as he drew even with the table.  </p>
<p>The Big Guy’s head shot up and bright blue eyes widened in surprise.  And then almost immediately, the guy frowned in obvious resignation, which was decidedly not what Bucky was going for.  </p>
<p>“Hello?” he responded, drawing the word out in question.</p>
<p>“I-uh-I noticed that you seemed a little stretched-thin?” Bucky hesitantly said, feeling all sorts of awkward in automatic response to Big Guy’s resignation, holding out one of the cups topped with the slice of gingerbread loaf in offering. “Thought that maybe you could use a bit of a pick-me-up?”</p>
<p>The man stared at him blankly for a long moment as though the words Bucky was speaking couldn’t fully register.  Then his brows shot up in an attempt to meet his hedgehog hair and his eyes widened again. “Oh, ah, thank you?” he stammered out, face flushing a surprisingly bright pink.  He cleared his throat and tried again. “Thank you, that’s-that’s-ah-very kind of you.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Bucky shrugged, leaning slightly over the table while being mindful not to knock into any of the books. Big Guy seemed to have some sort of system going and Bucky wasn’t about to be the one to screw it up.  He had already somehow made a less-than-stellar first impression, apparently, no need to go making it worse. </p>
<p>The man jolted as though startled into action and met Bucky half-way, reaching the rest of the way across the table with ease to accept the cup.  </p>
<p>“I didn’t know what you liked,” Bucky added. “It’s one of my seasonal favorites, though.”</p>
<p>“Thank you,” he responded with a polite smile.  The man took a cautious sip, eyeing Bucky with an open curiosity.  The polite smile turned a touch more genuine and he nodded. “It’s good. Really good.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Bucky said, returning the smile.  There was an awkward pause as the man continued to study him, like he was waiting for some particular question or comment or <em> something. </em>  Bucky didn’t know how to make sense of it.  He cleared his throat and opened his mouth to make his excuses to go back to minding his own business.</p>
<p>“Sorry,” the man winced and sighed. “I don’t... I’m not trying to be rude.  Just not having a whole lot of luck keeping focus today and getting annoyed with it.”</p>
<p>“No, you’re fine, I definitely understand,” Bucky said, waving off the apology, relieved that the awkward silence had been broken. “Studying is a nightmare some days even when you <em> like </em> what you’re supposed to be studying.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like you’re familiar with it,” Big Guy grinned.  And wasn’t that a nice grin.  Nice, of course, in the way only something epically gorgeous can be ‘nice’, sure.</p>
<p>“Maybe just a little,” Bucky quipped. “I’m Bucky, by the way.”</p>
<p>Big Guy stared at him for a long moment, the obvious confusion back in full force.  Then he huffed a low laugh, the resignation and confusion fading entirely from his expression. “Steve.”</p>
<p>“Well, Steve, good to meet you,” Bucky said.  He hesitated a moment when Steve remained quiet and eyed him curiously again.  Bucky cleared his throat awkwardly and rocked back on his heels. “Anyway, just thought I’d-uh-the coffee and stuff.  But I’m just going to-to go now.  Work things to do and all that. Good to meet you.”</p>
<p>“You too, Bucky,” Steve replied, a small, amused smirk on his face. “And thank you. For the coffee. And stuff.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Bucky huffed, giving in and laughing at his own awkwardness.  He felt himself flush slightly at the grin that overtook Steve’s smirk. “Good luck on the studying, Steve.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Steve responded, though it was less stilted than the brief conversation had started out, so Bucky was absolutely going to count that as a win. </p>
<p>Bucky waved, jolting when the move nearly sent his own coffee and bread to the floor.  He scrambled and, thankfully, managed to save both.  He shot a mock-glare over his shoulder at the snickering Steve and did his best to make sure that he wasn’t quite so obvious in the way he all but bolted back to his own table.  Where he--unsuccessfully--attempted to keep his eyes and attention on his work. </p>
<p>He did finally manage to pull his attention back to the eyesore of a spreadsheet that he was supposed to be working on.  An hour in on making actual progress, a loud, shrill noise drew Bucky’s attention back to the table that he had been trying <em> so hard </em> to avoid looking at.  </p>
<p>Steve was digging through the purple backpack and pulled out a phone--top of the line one, at that--and quickly silenced the obnoxious sound, shooting an apologetic glance around the shop and meeting Bucky’s eye briefly.  Steve answered the call, shoving the phone between his ear and shoulder while quickly snapping all of his books closed and somehow managing to cram every single one into his backpack.  There was a practiced efficiency to the process that told Bucky it wasn’t an infrequent occurrence.  </p>
<p>Bucky imagined for a moment what playing Tetris with Steve might look like.</p>
<p>He watched curiously as Steve shrugged on his jacket and lifted his bag carrying what had to be somewhere around a hundred pounds’ worth of books over his shoulder with ease.  Well damn, those muscles certainly weren’t just for show, were they?  Then Steve all but bolted from the coffee shop, maneuvering seamlessly around tables and other patrons with an ease that was the exact opposite of what Bucky had noted with the ‘forgotten size’ observation.  </p>
<p>The highlighter was still behind his ear, Bucky noticed with no small amount of amusement.</p>
<p>He stared at the door for several long seconds after Steve had already gone.  Long enough to see the flashy car pull up to the curb just brief enough for Steve to hop in before it sped off.  That was interesting.  Another thing, like the backpack, that didn’t quite fit the image that Steve’s general appearance gave off.  Bucky had no idea what to make of it.  </p>
<p>With no more excuses or distractions to lean on, Bucky sighed and turned back to his computer.  At least he would be done well before the deadline.</p>
<p>Steve wasn’t at the back corner table of the coffee shop at all over the week that followed.  Since the majority of the regular customers tried to avoid using that particular table, it stayed empty for the most part. Or, if someone new <em> did </em> sit there, it was only for a couple of minutes at most if they were waiting for their order.  None of them had purple backpacks or a rainbow of highlighters either, which made them decidedly less interesting, in Bucky’s opinion.</p>
<p>Bucky tried not to be disappointed.  After all, the guy had raced out of there in a hurry which pointed to the obvious conclusion that it was some sort of emergency.  It would be pretty awful of Bucky to be disappointed that his ‘creepy’ people-watching was interrupted when the guy was probably camping out in a hospital waiting room or something.  He was curious though, and maybe a little concerned. </p>
<p>Becca had just shaken her head at him in amused exasperation before sending him back to his table with no explanation. Sisters. They were the worst sometimes. </p>
<p>But, the lack of distraction meant that Bucky’s productivity that week was at peak levels, and he was forced to admit that <em> just maybe </em> he had spent entirely too much time watching Steve.  Ugh.  Maybe he was being creepy.  He promised himself to <em> not do that </em> if and whenever Steve came back in.</p>
<p>That day, however, a week after the awkward coffee gifting, Bucky settled at his usual table expecting more of the same, only to find the back table covered in books and highlighters in what looked to be almost the exact configuration as they had been the week before. And a powder purple backpack was tucked back underneath the table, a laptop peeking out from the bag’s main compartment. If Bucky didn’t know any better, he might have guessed that Steve hadn’t left at all.   </p>
<p>The chair that was usually occupied was currently empty.  </p>
<p>Bucky frowned slightly in confusion but occupied himself with getting his computer plugged in and his work pulled up. In two days, Becca would be closing down the shop at the end of the night and wouldn’t open it again until Friday morning.  She and Bucky would be heading across the city to spend the holiday with the rest of their family.  Bucky would need to have the spreadsheet finished before then because, come Monday, he would need to integrate bits and pieces of it into the quarterly and end-of-year reports.</p>
<p>Surprisingly even to Bucky, the mystery of the empty chair was drowned out almost immediately by the eyesore of a spreadsheet that Bucky had been working hard on making less painful.  It wasn’t that Bucky hated his work.  He actually enjoyed it most of the time, but the spreadsheets were decidedly his least favorite part of the entire thing.  Which, he was sure, was exactly why it was so incredibly easy to find a suitable distraction in people-watching.  Or person-watching, he amended with a wince.  Most or least favorite thing or not, it didn’t seem to have any problems sucking in his attention, this time at least.</p>
<p>Bucky blinked dumbly in confusion when a large paper cup--the biggest The Grind had, he knew from experience--with a parchment-paper wrapped treat balanced carefully on top of the lid was set onto the table, just to the right of his computer.  He stared at it for a moment unable to comprehend the sudden appearance.  Slowly, his brain reengaged and he glanced up, automatically following the direction that the cup had appeared from. </p>
<p>Steve smiled in apparent amusement at Bucky’s confusion and shrugged one shoulder almost lazily. “Looked like you could use a pick-me-up.”</p>
<p>“Thanks,” Bucky said lamely, nudging his computer to the side and moving the wrapped treat off of the top of the cup.  He set the treat down onto the table for the moment, taking a long drink from the cup instead. “Oh, gingerbread.  Thank you,” he grinned up at Steve.</p>
<p>“The girl at the counter said that’s what you usually got,” Steve said a little sheepishly, hands braced against the back of the chair in front of him.</p>
<p>“Remind me to get her something extra special for Christmas,” Bucky sighed happily, taking another drink of the Best Coffee Ever.  He caught Steve’s confused smile and laughed. “Don’t worry, I don’t go getting extravagant gifts for every barista that makes me coffee.  That’s my sister.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Steve blinked, and then chuckled. “I suppose that does make a lot more sense.” </p>
<p>Steve ducked his gaze awkwardly, staring at where his hands gripped the back of the chair.  His brows furrowed suddenly in confusion, and then shot high in surprise.  Bucky followed his attention to the backpack that he had dropped into the chair when he had first arrived.   Another one of his Avengers collection.  He had swapped out the Black Widow one for Iron Man last week.  This week he’d gone with Cap.  Steve glanced up to meet his eye again and Bucky shrugged, refusing to feel remotely embarrassed.  </p>
<p>“I have the whole set,” he said, forcing any defensiveness out of his tone and making a point to stick with cheerful idleness. “Took me a while to get all of them.  But I rotate through ‘em.”  Because he could. And he wanted to. </p>
<p>“I see,” Steve said, something odd in his tone but it didn’t sound judgemental.  But Steve’s eyes narrowed and his head cocked to the side, studying Bucky with a curious intensity. And then he laughed, a low huff of breath that held as much confusion as it did amusement.  </p>
<p>Bucky blinked in his own confusion at the odd exchange and fished around for something to change the subject from poking fun at his odd collection.  He leaned back into his chair and glanced over at Steve’s usual table and then back.  “So, what are you studying?”</p>
<p>Steve shrugged but smiled sheepishly again, “A little bit of everything, to be honest. I-uh-I kinda have a lot to play catch up on.  Sometimes it’s easier to lay a lot of different topics out in front of me and let my head go where it goes rather than sticking to one particular topic.”</p>
<p>“I guess that explains all the highlighters,” Bucky mused. And then before he could think better of it, “Anything I can help with?”</p>
<p>Steve gave him a startled look, clearly not expecting the offer.  Which, Bucky supposed was fair. It was pretty off the cuff.  “I could use all the help I can get, I think,” Steve admitted after a beat.</p>
<p>Bucky considered the quiet admission for a moment before reaching out to close and unplug his laptop.  He ducked under the table long enough to pull the plug from the outlet and stuffed the computer and it’s cord back into his Cap bag unceremoniously.  Steve watched him wide-eyed as Bucky zipped the bag closed and pulled the strap over his shoulder, gathering his coffee and the slice of gingerbread loaf.  </p>
<p>“Show me what you’ve got,” Bucky grinned expectantly.</p>
<p>Steve’s face pinkened and he just stared at Bucky for a long moment before clearing his throat and bobbing his head in an approximation of a nod. “Right,” he said. “Right-uh-sure, let’s go.”</p>
<p>Bucky trailed behind Steve on the short trek to the back table.  He couldn’t help but take advantage of the situational positioning to let his eyes wander over the man in front of him.  Gorgeous.  He knew that he’d thought it before, when he was mostly content with the visual treat from across the shop.  Being physically closer and interacting with Steve hadn’t dimmed that observation in the least.  Steve was almost unfairly pretty, Bucky thought with a mental sigh. </p>
<p>With the tacit agreement that Bucky might be helping with whatever study material Steve was working through, Bucky allowed himself to look over the carefully staged books.  A little bit of everything was certainly right.  Most of the books, he noticed, were history related, the pages opened to the various wars fought throughout the last century.  Though one wasn’t technically a book at all, instead it was an issue of the Times.  The pages Steve had spread touted a heading about the most influential people. There were several more issues stacked under that one too.  There were a couple science and medical journals--closed and stacked side by side. A copy of the Guiness Book of World Records, of all things, was stacked on top of an odd pile of celebrity news magazines. </p>
<p>“You weren’t joking,” Bucky blinked as he took the chair opposite Steve’s and tucked his own bag underneath the table next to Steve’s purple one.</p>
<p>“Like I said,” Steve sighed. “I got a lot to play catch up on.”</p>
<p>“I see that,” Bucky mused. He considered the spread for a moment and took a fortifying drink from his coffee. “Okay, what were you working on before?  You said you bounce between whatever holds your interest at the time, right?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “I was up to Vietnam on the history side of things.  Needed a bit of a break and you looked like you could use one, too.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I can see why that would be rough to dig through.  My uncle was in the Army for that one,” Bucky said. “He still doesn’t talk about it.” </p>
<p>Steve seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then snatched the Guiness Book of World Records from the table. “This thing,” he said almost urgently. “This stuff’s real?”</p>
<p>“Oh yeah,” Bucky laughed. “Very real.  Here, let me show you.” He ducked down and pulled his laptop from his bag and let it load.  He quickly pulled up several videos and propped the computer on one of the stacks of books where they could both see the screen.</p>
<p>Halfway through the second one, Steve tentatively reached out and clicked the pause button. He frowned and stared at Bucky for a long moment and opened his mouth to speak only to pause and tilt his head in consideration.  Finally, he seemed to find the words for whatever it was that was bothering him. </p>
<p>“Okay, Buck, I gotta ask,” Steve said, uncertainty painted clearly on his face.  Bucky eyed him warily, he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going already.  Steve hesitated and licked his lips before obviously bracing himself. “Are you having one on me?”</p>
<p>It was Bucky’s turn to frown in confusion.  He glanced at the laptop, and then back at Steve, trying to make sense of the question. “No?” he said uncertainly. “People are really doing this shit to get their names in a book.”</p>
<p>“No,” Steve said, shaking his head and sighing in obvious frustration. “Not-not about <em> that.” </em></p>
<p>“Then,” Bucky sat forward in his chair, shifting uncomfortably. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Steve.”</p>
<p>After a long beat of tense silence, the frustration seemed to melt off of Steve’s expression but the confusion clung on tight.  “The coffee a few weeks ago and. And. All of this?  Just because?”</p>
<p>“Well, I like helping people, for starters,” Bucky said carefully.</p>
<p>“For starters?” Steve pressed.  Bucky frowned as he caught the insistence in Steve’s tone.  There was <em> something </em> that Steve was actually asking with tone rather than words.  For whatever reason, Bucky’s motives were in question and of importance. </p>
<p>“Look, Steve,” Bucky sighed, slumping back into his chair. “I like helping people. It’s a thing, you can go ask Becca if you want,” he said, nodding his head in the direction of the counter. “I’d have offered to help last time, but you looked ready to either bolt as fast as possible or tear my head off for interrupting you.”</p>
<p>“I mean, it’s not all altruistic,” Bucky admitted with a shrug, wincing when Steve visibly tensed at the admission. “I’ve been trying to come up with a good excuse to talk to you for the last month.  You know, see if I couldn’t convince you that grabbing a bite or something after the holiday was a good idea.”</p>
<p>“That’s it?” Steve said, blinking in surprise. “Your ulterior motive is for a date?”</p>
<p>“Well, when you put it that way…”</p>
<p>“No!” Steve interrupted. “No, I didn’t mean it like that.  I just wasn’t... expecting that.”</p>
<p>“What were you expecting?” Bucky asked. “‘Cause this whole conversation has been pretty weird, and I have no idea what we’re talking about right now.”</p>
<p>“Kinda hard to go out without being recognized these days,” Steve sighed. “Most folks here leave me alone at least.  I was a little disappointed thinking that was changing.”</p>
<p>“Recognized?” Bucky repeats blankly.  He scanned over Steve’s features intently, attempting to find whatever it was that he was meant to see.  Bright blue eyes, a slightly crooked nose, full lips and a strong jaw.  Broad, very well muscled shoulders that the thick sweater did nothing to hide. Steve really had no right to be that pretty.  Bucky tamped down hard on the rush of attraction and want to force his brain to work through it.  It wasn’t working.  </p>
<p>“I don’t understand,” he admitted finally.</p>
<p>Steve sighed but shot Bucky a half-smile that bordered entirely too closely to fond amusement.  With none of his previous hesitation, Steve leaned forward and clumsily typed something into the search browser on Bucky’s computer and then turned it to fully face Bucky.</p>
<p>Bucky stared uncomprehendingly at the computer screen for a long moment.  And then glanced at Steve and back again.  He was suddenly far, far too aware of the Captain America backpack currently sitting on the floor at his feet. </p>
<p>“Oh,” he said dumbly, feeling his face flush hotly. “You’re that Steve.”</p>
<p>Steve laughed genuinely, and then grinned fondly across the table at Bucky. “Yeah, Buck, I’m that Steve.”</p>
<p>That explained a lot, actually.  The odd, resigned expression during their initial meeting.  The ridiculously wide variety of material spread out across the table.  And most importantly, Bucky now knew <em> exactly </em> what Becca’s knowing smile over the last month was about.  </p>
<p>Bucky sighed and ran a hand over his face.  She was <em> never </em> going to let him live this one down.  He would be old and grey and Becca would <em> still </em> be teasing him about it.  He just knew it. </p>
<p>Sisters were the worst.</p>
<p>“Right,” he said when his brain finally decided to come back online enough that he could act like a moderately normal person again. “Okay, we’re going about this all wrong.”</p>
<p>“What?” Steve blinked, confusion firmly back on his handsome face.</p>
<p>“The study stuff,” Bucky said, sitting forward and opening a new window on his browser. “Looking at it like it’s some sort of review is ass-backwards when you don’t have the foundation to begin with.  Seriously, who gave you this stuff?  It’s like trying to teach a kindergartener physics when they don’t have basic math and science down yet.”</p>
<p>“Hey,” Steve protested weakly. “I’m not that bad.”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say you were,” Bucky agreed easily. “Doesn’t mean you have to drop into all the big topics without a primer.  Or even a decent roadmap.  Here, I can find a good cliff notes version that’ll at least give you a better guideline without trying to throw everything at you at once.”</p>
<p>“That’s it?” Steve asked tentatively, not looking at the computer screen at all.</p>
<p>“What’s it?” Bucky asked, tilting his head to one side in question.</p>
<p>“You figure out what I am and just fix my history lessons?”</p>
<p>“Who, not what,” Bucky automatically corrected and then he frowned. “What else were you expecting? I mean, I can back off, if this is working for you?  But my ma’s taught high school History-slash-Social Studies for the past like, fifteen years.  I could bug her for some pointers too.  Trust me, this controlled chaos here would have her in tears.”</p>
<p>Once again, Steve was staring at him.  There was a stunned sort of confusion which was better than the frustrated confusion that lit Steve’s ears up bright red.  Bucky still wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong.  Maybe he’s coming on too strong?  Probably.  He was bad at that.  </p>
<p>Bucky was about to apologize when the expression faded ever so slightly and Steve smiled tentatively. “Sure, Bucky, that would be helpful,” Steve said softly.  His posture had noticeably relaxed, a slight slump in the line of his shoulders and the furrow in his brow had eased. </p>
<p>“Good,” Bucky grinned and then glanced at his watch.  “What do you say we put a pin in this until I can get my hands on some better materials and go grab some lunch?”</p>
<p>“I guess that depends,” Steve hedged with a thoughtful smile.</p>
<p>“On?” Bucky prompted.</p>
<p>“Is this lunch going to be just a lunch or that date you were angling for?” Steve asked, brow quirked in a playfully challenging way.</p>
<p>Bucky felt his face heat again but shrugged in what he hoped was nonchalance. “That’s your call,” he said.</p>
<p>Steve quickly and efficiently began closing and stacking his books, stuffing them away in his purple backpack with practiced ease. Bucky followed suit, shoving his laptop into his Cap bag and zipping it closed before pulling it back over his shoulders.  He watched with a sense of bemused awe as Steve easily hefted his own overstuffed bag over his own shoulders.</p>
<p>“You know, super-soldier or not, that <em> can’t </em> be good for your back,” Bucky pointed out a little incredulously. </p>
<p>Steve huffed a small laugh and shrugged, “It’s not too bad.  I’ve had worse.”</p>
<p>“Doesn’t mean you can’t have better,” Bucky reasoned with a shake of his head. Somehow knowing that he wasn’t going to get anywhere with that particular conversation, at least not without a long-winded conversation, Bucky waved it off and stood from his chair. “Never mind, let’s just get lunch.”</p>
<p>“Sounds good.” Steve grinned, and then added almost shyly, “Wouldn’t want to be late for that date.”</p>
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